by J. R. Ward
Hell, maybe Peyton would do the job.
And yes, she was going to have a happy little conversation with him, too.
Axe's eyes focused on something over her left shoulder. And when he finally spoke, his voice was flat. "I need this job, okay? I have to find work. So I'd...appreciate...a little leeway when it comes to social graces."
She laughed in a tight burst. "A little leeway? You need, like, a football field on that. Maybe more. You are one of the most offensive people I have ever met."
He shifted in his boots, something she was beginning to recognize he did when he really wanted to leave but was making himself stay.
"This is on you," she said. "I'm not going to help you here. If you've got something more to tell me, get on with it. Otherwise, I'm going to get my things and leave."
Axe looked around, and then he muttered, "I live alone, okay? And the training program isn't about making friends, it's about life-and-death--which doesn't exactly play to my interpersonal strengths. Unless it's killing. And yeah, you just saw what that looks like. So I don't really know how to make conversation. But I am sorry, all right?"
Elise shook her head slowly while meeting his stare. "I can't have you getting aggressive with Troy. Yes, I'm aware he finds me attractive, but we've never been anything but professional with each other."
She judicially edited out the details about their momentary lapse the night before. But she didn't feel guilty about that even with Axe having thrown the honesty thing back in her face.
Okay...maybe she did.
Whatever.
"You need to be tantamount to invisible." She put her palm out. "And before you go there, that isn't because you're a commoner. That's what bodyguards do. Or...well, from what I've seen in movies, that's what they do. I have real work to do here, and I've already had to justify my efforts to my father. I owed the explanation to him. I do not owe it to you."
Axe nodded. "Agreed."
After a moment, she took a deep breath, and then indicated the space between them, moving her hand back and forth. "We're not walking this stretch again together. Am I clear? We're done with this. If you can't be up front without being abusive, and you can't do this job without being out of control, I'm walking away and not looking back. Again, not because I think I'm better than you on account of my bloodline, but because I don't deserve to have some male going ape-gorilla and pounding his chest in front of me all the time. I will not have this discussion again."
Axe blinked a couple of times.
And then the strangest thing happened. Or at least...she thought it did.
The right corner of his mouth seemed to lift ever so slightly, and not in a mocking way. More as if she had impressed him and the respect he had for her had been the last thing he'd ever expected to feel around a female aristocrat.
"Deal." He stuck his hand out. "And I'm sorry we had to run over the ground rules twice. It won't happen again."
Elise released the tension in her shoulders and accepted what he offered, shaking his much larger palm. "Deal."
When they dropped the contact, she leaned to the side and looked around his huge shoulder. "Shoot. Now, we have to try and smooth this over with Troy."
"Don't worry. I got this."
"Somehow that doesn't inspire confidence."
"Watch me."
As Axe headed back to where her professor was still sitting, Elise rolled her eyes and cursed under her breath. And then ran off behind him.
This was like Groundhog Day, she thought. With Jason-damn-Statham instead of Bill Murray...
s Axe headed back for the professor, it was amazing how much less he wanted to kill the guy. In fact, as he came up to that table with its banks of papers, he didn't even feel like hurting the human. Mostly.
The man bun had to go, though--and in fact, Axe did have a nice serrated hunting knife on him that could do the deed. Somehow, though, he doubted that was within the scope of his professional duties.
Troy shrank back in his seat, but that didn't last. Axe reached into the man's brain and erased the short-term memories of the aggression that had been thrown the guy's way. And then Axe stuck out his hand.
"Hey, I'm Axe. I'm Elise's bodyguard. I don't want to interrupt you two, so I'll just camp out"--he glanced around--"over there in that chair. You do your thing, I'll do mine, and we'll get along just fine."
Provided you keep your hands off of my girl, he tacked on.
Not that Elise was his.
Shit.
The human winced and rubbed his temple like something hurt up there, but he got to his feet and shook Axe's palm. "Pleased to meet you. You can't be too careful these days--remember that shooting down near Manhattan last month? And then there was another out West in California."
Axe nodded. "You got it. Dangerous times. So I'll just be over there. You guys get to work."
As he walked over to a low-slung chair that had almost as much padding as a piece of toast, he was very aware of Elise looking at him like he'd sprouted a horn in his forehead--and he couldn't resist arching a brow at her.
Parking his ass, he steepled his fingers and watched her.
'Cuz that's what bodyguards did, right?
But he also kept an eye on everything else, too. Without moving his head, he constantly scanned where they were, tracking the movements of the few-and-far-between students who wandered around like zombies, all hollow-eyed and worn out. A skeleton crew of staff were on duty, too, and he ID'd them based on their age demographic and the fact that they didn't look like they'd been living off of coffee and vending-machine dinners.
The library was so quiet that even though Troy and Elise spoke softly, he heard their convo just fine. Lot of discussion about passages in the final papers. Debates about certain students' trajectories at the university. Questions about whether something had been plagiarized or properly cited.
Whatever that meant.
Man, Elise was so smart, he was intimidated. She threw around terms he didn't recognize the way a pro tennis player covered a Grand Slam volley. And then it came to her desertion...distillation...dissertation?--and everything was ratcheted up even higher on the IQ scale.
Her thesaurus...theory?...thesis?...was about bipolar treatment in adolescents and whether or not kids could appropriately be diagnosed with the mental disorder during puberty. Whatever that was. And how they should be treated, both pharmacologically speaking, and in terms of talk and art therapy.
Big stuff, and Troy was clearly impressed.
When Axe checked his watch a little later, he was surprised to find that three hours had passed and the pair of them were starting to pack up. Axe got to his feet and stretched, but kept his distance because he wanted to show her that he wasn't a wild animal--and it wasn't like he couldn't hear what they were saying, anyway.
And yup, he knew Troy was getting ready for some kind of ask because the guy started looking over at Axe, his eyes jumping around like he was a kid about to put his hand in the cookie jar.
Axe glanced at Elise. The female had looked over in his direction a number of times, and he had to admit, he enjoyed the attention. At the start of the night, it had clearly been because she was wondering whether he was going to fuck off the new-leaf routine and pounce on her little human buddy--but later, he got the impression it was something else entirely.
Which again, made him warm up even more to good ol' Troy.
When there was an awkward pause, Axe smiled at them both. "Anything you want to say to her can be said in front of me. I'll take it to my grave."
--
Elise had to give Axe credit. He'd not only backed off, he'd functioned with perfect professionalism, staying out of the way, but keeping close enough so that if anyone approached the table or tried to do something, he could respond in an instant.
It gave her a lot of hope.
What was difficult? Hell, nearly impossible?
The feel of those eyes of his on her. For some reason, his yellow stare made her f
eel more alive, her skin prickling with sensation even though he wasn't touching her, the urge to check and see if he was still looking at her a constant, underground buzz in her head.
"So..." Troy glanced back at Axe. "Ah..."
Of course, Axe telling the man he was free to speak had helped override the awkward sooooooo much.
Not.
"Yes?" she prompted Troy. "I mean, if this is about Christmas, I told you, I'm totally fine to work. We'll just have to meet somewhere else."
"Um, yeah." Another glance at Axe--who was standing right there, a little smile on his face like he was enjoying how antsy Troy was. "I think we're done with the finals, though. And your dissertation is about ready."
"I'm feeling good about it."
Troy cleared his throat. "Are you prepared to help me with my winter-break seminar, still?"
"Absolutely. You want to plan that out tomorrow? When do the classes start?"
"Ah..." The human took out his cell phone and fiddled with it. "January third. I have thirty students signed up, almost all non-trad professionals in the field."
"Great. I can't wait."
As she zipped shut her backpack, he blurted, "How'd you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night."
Elise jerked her head up. Blinked. Tried to process the invitation.
Which was nuts. She'd been well aware of where things were headed the night before. Funny, though, meeting Axe had changed so much. Too much.
And she refused to look in the male's direction.
Then again, she didn't need actual eye contact to get a load of the arrogant pleasure on his face: He was assuming she was going to turn Troy down, and he was going to be happy about it.
You better slow your roll, buddy, she thought with uncharacteristic rancor.
"I'd like that, Troy." She formed a smile with her lips. "That would be great. But it needs to be after eight? Is that too late?"
The fact that Axe bug-eyed gave her a gotcha in the center of her chest. Not that she was proud of it.
God, what was she doing here?
"That's perfect." Troy grinned in a way that made his eyes glimmer. "Would you like me to pick you up?"
"Ah...it's probably best for me to meet you. Where were you thinking?"
As they discussed alternatives--seafood was out for her, he liked Thai, she preferred Chinese, how about that Brazilian steakhouse, Ignacio's, fantastic-it's-a-date--she kept her peripheral vision on Axe.
He was not happy.
"Well, I'll see you then." Elise drew on her coat and one-strapped her backpack. "And thank you again. I'm looking forward to it."
"Can't wait."
Troy had a dimple on one side. Who knew, she thought as she pivoted and started walking off.
Axe was silent as they left the building. But he didn't need to say anything for her to know what their next argument was going to be about.
Out on the lawn, she turned to him and put her hands on her hips. "You're not coming with us."
That brow of his went up. "To where? Ohhhhhh, on your date. Yes, I am."
"No, you're not."
"Wait, let me get this straight. You want me to be professional, except when you don't?"
"I would like some privacy. And we're not going to school."
"You don't think your father would want you covered on a date with a human? I'm very sure he will."
"It's not necessary." Okay, that sounded lame even to her own ears. "I'll be fine."
He was silent for a moment. "Okay. As you wish."
Uh-huh, right, he was going to agree with her on this one.
And as she waited for more to come at her, for the electric sparks to keep flying between them, she prickled with heat, roared with awareness, watched that full lower lip of his in anticipation of it moving again.
"Come on," he said. "Let's get you back. I have to go to training now, and I need to change into combat clothes."
Wait...what?
Axe motioned forth. "After you, m'lady."
Elise blinked. And then told herself that it was insane to be disappointed they weren't going to keep fighting.
"Do you have something else to say to me?" he prompted.
"No, I don't," she muttered as she closed her eyes...and willed herself back home.
he following evening, Mary tried to make sure that Bitty was all set in the billiards room. But even after providing the girl with a bowl full of freshly popped and buttered popcorn, a bag of Chips Ahoy! chocolate chip cookies, a ginger ale, a bottle of water, the remote to the huge TV over the fireplace, copies of Cosmo for Girls, the National Enquirer, two weeks of People, and a partridge in a pear tree...she still felt as though she were leaving Bit in the wilderness alone in a snowstorm.
Which was nuts.
But that was a mom for you.
Sitting down on the sofa by the twin leg casts, she stroked Bitty's soft-socked foot. "You sure you'll be all right?"
The smile she got back was easy and happy. "Oh, yes, very much so. Bella and Nalla are coming down after Nalla's bath. And Lassiter promised he would come watch Saved by the Bell with me."
"He's a good soul, that angel."
"He also told me he was going to color my hair--"
"What--"
"Kidding." Bitty smiled even further. "I couldn't resist."
Mary clutched the front of her silk blouse. "Jeez, you'll give me a heart attack."
"Father came by, too. He said he was going to get off work early and make me a special Last Meal."
"He's at the Audience House tonight."
"Is he not in the field because of what happened at the clinic?"
"He needs a little more recovery time."
"Good." The girl got quiet. "I worry...."
"About what?" Mary switched to the other foot, massaging the little toes in their cushion of fleece. "Tell me."
"What if something happened to him? I mean, I know the beast protects him, but..."
"He's specially trained, honey. His equipment is the best. He doesn't take any undue risks."
"That's what he said."
"He'll never lie to you." Mary frowned. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?"
"The other kids need you. I get to be with you during the day."
You're so beautiful, Mary thought as she stood up.
"You can always call me." She took her cell phone out of her purse and waved it back and forth. "This is always with me."
"I know. Have a good night, Mom."
Mary closed her eyes briefly. Boy, that was one word she just couldn't believe was being applied to her. And right up with shellan, it was her absolute favorite.
"See you soon. Call me, okay?"
"I promise."
Just as she was leaving, Lassiter came into the room, his blond-and-black hair nearly down to his ass, his white robing like something out of Animal House's toga party.
Dropping her voice, she said, "Tell me you are not coloring that girl's hair."
The angel assumed an innocent look. "She likes pink, you know."
"Lassiter, are you serious? You need to talk to us before you--"
"I don't see anything wrong with her having pink hair."
"I don't either. The issue I have is what you're going to have to do to get it that color. Bald is not going to work for me, okay? And if you melt that child's hair off her scalp, I don't care if you're a deity, Rhage will find a way to kill you. She's already got casts on her arms and legs, she doesn't need to lose her hair on top of it."
"Not for long," Lassiter murmured.
"Excuse me?"
"The casts."
Mary looked back at Bitty. The girl seemed perfectly content, reclining back and reading a magazine.
"Six weeks seems like forever," Mary whispered. "But you're right. It isn't."
The angel put his hand on her shoulder. "It's all going to be okay."
Something in his voice reached her at her heart and eased the ache there sure as if he had given her
a Tylenol for a sprained ankle.
"Go," he told her. "I'm not leaving her side."
"I love you, Lassiter," she said without looking away from her daughter.
"I know."
Mary glanced back at him. "Did you just quote Harrison Ford to me."
"Yes, Leia. And it's also true. Go on, Mother, she's safe."
Mary gave the angel a quick hug and then she left the mansion, going out through the vestibule to the Volvo station wagon she used. As she was getting in, her phone went off and she dumped half her purse out trying to get to the thing in case Bitty needed--
It was a text from Rhage.
Can't wait till coast is clear today. Meet me in tub?
Mary laughed. "Coast is clear" was the code phrase they used for making love. And it was funny, ever since Bitty had come into their lives, the sex had gotten even better because it had to be planned, snuck in, kept a secret.
It's a date, she texted back. But I'll fill the Jacuzzi so the level is right.
Nobody wanted a repeat of the deluge that had happened the last time they'd tried to have sex in a bubble bath. Besides, Lassiter had already purchased all of the Little Mermaid merch in the United States. And where the hell would he get a second stuffed tarpon the size of a Volkswagen?
Then again, that was a question best left unanswered.
Mary was still smiling when she pulled up to Safe Place about twenty minutes later. As she headed in through the garage, the feeling that all was right in her world was like having sunshine pouring down over her body, her step light as a breeze, a little tune humming up and out of her throat.
"Hey, everyone," she said to the group making gingerbread men in kitchen. "Oh, this smells amazing in here."
She greeted a couple of the kids and their mahmens, glad that the human Christmas tradition she had passed on was being put to good use.
"Nice work," she murmured to one little guy who was covering his cookie with enough frosting to put a red and green blitz on half of Caldwell.
The stairs to the second floor were in the front of the rambling house, and she was still humming as she ascended to the top landing. Her office was not far from Marissa's, but when she put her head into her boss's work space, the female wasn't there.
It felt really good to prioritize in her mind the work for the night: the reports she wanted to finish up, the meeting with the intake supervisor, and then the community meal right before she would go back home.
